


As You Truly Are

by virdant



Category: Glee
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Fashion & Models, Alternate Universe - Photographer, M/M, Modeling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-14
Updated: 2021-02-14
Packaged: 2021-03-14 06:19:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,873
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29413998
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/virdant/pseuds/virdant
Summary: As a model, Sebastian has an image: aloof and beautiful. But Blaine, despite the camera between him, sees Sebastian.
Relationships: Blaine Anderson/Sebastian Smythe
Comments: 7
Kudos: 58





	As You Truly Are

**Author's Note:**

> For Moni (http://kanversrph.tumblr.com) for the Seblaine Gift Exchange. You had some very fun prompts, but I was just struck by photographer and model ideas. I hope you like this fic!

“Are all photographers as hot as you?”

Blaine didn’t look up from his camera. Sebastian Smythe was, perhaps, one of the best models in the industry: tall, good on the eyes, and a pleasure to photograph. But Sebastian Smythe was also an incurable flirt, who wasn’t above leering and suggesting Blaine do some hands-on corrections.

Still, Sebastian was good at what he did. And for all that he joked around, he was a pleasure to photograph. Efficient, took instruction well, only needed one eye-roll to stop joking and get to work.

Blaine rolled his eyes.

“Yes, yes,” Sebastian said, agreeably. Today, he was in a light linen shirt, for a fragrance advert. The direction had been sexy and seductive, like a summer beach day. Instead of actually going to a beach, they’d tossed sand down in the set, and Blaine could already tell that he was going to end up with sand in his shoes by the end of the day. 

Sebastian leaned back on his elbows. It made his shoulders look very wide, and the shirt gape open attractively. It was a polished image, well practiced, well created.

Blaine swallowed and lifted the camera, and got to work.

* * *

“So,” Sebastian said, as he was looking over the raws, clicking from one photo to the next. Blaine liked to let Sebastian take a look at them before they got processed and touched up. He didn’t let everybody see them. “What are you doing after this?”

Blaine laughed. “Are you asking me out, again, Sebastian?”

“What can I say?” He clicked to the next photo. Blaine had managed to catch Sebastian looking at him—not the camera, but at him—the faintest hint of a smile on the corner of his mouth, eyes crinkled slightly. It wasn’t what the magazines were looking for, not for this advert. But Blaine liked the photo.

Sebastian paused on it.

“You’re good at this,” Sebastian said. He didn’t click to the next one, just lingering.

“You’re a good subject,” Blaine replied.

Sebastian looked at the photo for a long time, and then said, “Are you sending this one in?”

“Do you want me not to?”

Sebastian said, “Don’t.”

“Then I won’t.”

Sebastian looked at him. Blaine met his gaze. Blaine worked with a lot of models. He offered similar courtesies. But Sebastian had a way of looking at him like he held the world in his hands.

He only held a camera.

Somebody—Sebastian’s PA, a blond lady named Kitty—cleared her throat. She tapped her wrist—she wasn’t wearing a watch—and raised an expectant eyebrow.

“I have to go,” Sebastian said. 

“That’s the life when you’re a supermodel,” Blaine replied. He smiled. Sebastian smiled back. “Next time, don’t flirt when you have another shoot after mine.”

Sebastian laughed, and he squeezed Blaine’s shoulder before he left.

* * *

Blaine had first met Sebastian years ago. He’d just been starting out as a photographer, and Sebastian was one of his first clients, looking for headshots. Sebastian had flirted, Blaine had rolled his eyes, and he’d given Sebastian headshots and watched Sebastian’s popularity rise and rise and rise.

And Blaine had risen with him.

It was strange, watching Sebastian’s face and body take over the billboards one by one. It had been stranger, watching his own star rise along with it. Sebastian asked for him, over and over, and Blaine wondered how much of that was so Sebastian could flirt with him, and how much of it was his photography.

But Sebastian kept asking, always stopped when Blaine rolled his eyes, and always left with a gentle squeeze on Blaine’s shoulder, nothing more and nothing less.

And now here they were. Sebastian, on the top of the world, and Blaine beside him, the stars within their grasp.

* * *

Blaine was taking photos of Sam Evans the next day—underwear advert, and Sam was always unashamed of his nudity, easy and laughing, the mood on the set easy and relaxed—when his phone chimed with an alert. He ignored it, making a note to check after the shoot was over, only for a susurrus of murmuring to spread across the room.

“What’s going on?” 

“Blaine,” his assistant Skylar said. “You’ll want to see this.”

Scandal! The headlines blared. Sebastian Smythe Secret Love Child?

Blaine stared at Skylar’s phone, not sure what he was seeing.

“They say he slept with Kitty.”

“Sebastian wouldn’t,” Blaine said.

“Blaine,” Skylar said. 

“I have a shoot,” Blaine said.

“Blaine,” Skylar said.

Sam was looking at him, more sympathy than he could bear. The entire set had turned into a hushed graveyard, everybody’s eyes on him.

“I have a shoot,” Blaine said, again. He raised his camera. He had met Sebastian so many years ago. They’d travelled every step of this journey together. “Sam?”

Sam said, “We can wait, if you want?”

Blaine caught a picture of Sam, concern in his eyes, something unbearably intimate in his friendship and affection. He knew, without looking at the shot, that this is the one that the producers would want, and also knew, without looking at the shot, that he would never be able to submit it.

Blaine said, “Sebastian wouldn’t.”

* * *

The apartment was quiet and still when Blaine returned home.

A part of Blaine was surprised. He’d expected a hoard of paparazzi, ready to flash their camera bulbs in his face, hoping for an expression. But somehow, it was still and quiet as he passed outside their apartment. 

“Did you make it back to your place safely?” Skylar demanded as soon as Blaine’d unlocked his front door.

“I’m about to,” Blaine said.

“I’ll email you the details,” Skylar said, and then hung up.

Blaine shook his head. For all that Skylar was his assistant, helping him manage his photography and life, it felt like his opinion came secondary to Skylar’s decisions. Still. He let himself into the apartment.

It was still and quiet, the same way it had been when he’d left this morning. There was still the pile of breakfast dishes left to soak in the sink. The plants were still turned towards the sun. It felt as thought it was any other day that he’d returned from work first.

But today was different.

Skylar’s email came shortly. It had several tabloid articles linked, but Skylar had summarized the pertinent details of Sebastian’s scandal. He’d always been efficient, and he’d put his skills to the test here. There was, at the bottom, an updated schedule for Sebastian.

He would be busy, for the next week.

Blaine sat on the couch and closed his eyes.

For a long time, it had been the two of them: Blaine with his camera, and Sebastian with his smoldering smile. It had been so easy, that first time, for Sebastian to draw him past the camera, for him to take Sebastian behind, for the two of them to face each other without pretense. It had been so easy that first time, that second time, that third time.

“You’re killing me,” Sebastian had said. 

“You’re one to talk,” Blaine’d retorted. He’d rolled over to pick up the camera again, to catch Sebastian in the viewfinder, to catch a glimmer of a smile.

“I wouldn’t be able to do it,” Sebastian said.

“Do what?”

“Share you,” Sebastian said.

“You already do.” He caught Sebastian’s smile. “I take photos of other models, you know.” He snapped the twist of his mouth. “And I know better.”

“Better?”

He set aside the camera. Touched the curve of Sebastian’s cheek. “I get to see you as you are, not as you present yourself.”

He didn’t pick up his camera again. He closed his eyes in the memory, and he closed his eyes now. He let himself hold it: Sebastian’s love, Sebastian’s trust, the many years they have walked together, hand-in-hand.

He closed his eyes and let himself remember Sebastian perfectly.

* * *

Sebastian came back late at night, just past midnight. Normally, Blaine would already be in bed, but he was still sitting up, the lights low, remembering.

“Still up?” Sebastian asked.

“Where did that rumor come from?” Blaine asked.

He hadn’t read the tabloid articles. He didn’t need to hear the speculation, the rumors, not when he knew that Sebastian would come home to him. Not when they’d grown together.

Sebastian snorted. “Some paparazzi caught a photo of Kitty going to her doctor, and another of me and her arm-in-arm. Apparently Kitty’s pregnant.”

“Congratulations to her,” Blaine said.

Sebastian settled next to him. His arm swung over Blaine’s shoulders. “Not the way I wanted to hear about my assistant’s pregnancy.”

“So you aren’t the father?” Blaine teased. “Here I was wondering when you became attracted to women.”

“Ugh.” Sebastian closed his eyes. “Sorry.”

“What are you apologizing for?”

It was dark in their apartment. Quiet. Blaine knew that there was a storm brewing, the perfect storm of rumors and public relations, of clearing the air and settling the situation. Normally Kitty would be working overtime, but having been caught in the rumors herself, she was no doubt forced to delegate.

It was just another Thursday.

Sebastian said, “Did you expect this to be our life, when we started?”

“For you to get into rumors about cheating on me with your assistant?”

“This popularity.”

Blaine smiled. “No.” He’d wanted to be great. But Sebastian—Sebastian had known that he would be great. It had been easy to be swept into Sebastian’s easy confidence, to allow his wants to transform and evolve until they were no longer dreams, but reality. Sebastian had a way of doing that.

“Exactly.”

Blaine shook his head. “No,” he said. “I wouldn’t trade this for anything.”

Sebastian turned to him. There was something sweet in his gaze, a love that only Blaine got to see. A love in his eyes that he hoarded, carefully sliding those pictures into an album for only them. “Blaine,” Sebastian said.

“I see you,” Blaine replied. It had taken a while before he had been able to see Sebastian past the camera. But he saw Sebastian now, clearly, with no lenses or filters in the way. He was not perfect, but he was still lovely. “And I’m glad I do.”

* * *

The paparazzi were outside the next day. Blaine rolled his eyes at the window, though it seemed to have no effect on them compared to Sebastian. 

“Regret marrying me?” Sebastian drawled.

“Shouldn’t I be asking you that question? You could be running off into the sunset with Kitty right now.”

Sebastian pulled a face. “Pass.” He brushed his lips across Blaine’s cheek. “I’ve got everything I want right here.”

Blaine studied Sebastian. Swept back hair and cheekbones; a pair of dark sunglasses and a casual hoodie in navy blue. Comfortable jeans. The paparazzi would go wild for the look, as they always did. “You going out like that?”

“Got a problem with it?”

He thought about how Sebastian would photograph in it. He’d look good. He always did. And paparazzi photos were different from the careful shoots that Blaine put together.

“You’ll look good in the photos,” Blaine decided. 

“Not as good as if you took them.”

Blaine smiled back. “Of course not,” he said. “I see you for who you really are.”


End file.
